


tell me to kiss you

by pennydrabbles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Fluff, Gen, Gender Neutral, One Shot, Reader Insert, Romance, imagine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23605837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennydrabbles/pseuds/pennydrabbles
Summary: Prompt: Imagine drunk Dean accidentally confessing his feelings for you
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 53





	tell me to kiss you

You found Dean slouched at the bar, chin propped in his hand. His eyes were half-closed, nearly asleep in his seat.

“Come on, Dean,” you said gently. “Party’s over. Time to head home.”

You touched Dean’s elbow. He turned, losing his balance in the process. When he stumbled off the bar stool, you braced a hand against his chest to steady him. He swayed on his feet, a sloppy smile spreading across his lips as recognition brightened his eyes.

“Hey,” he said. “I always like seeing your face.” He trailed his thumb over your chin. “‘S cute face.”

You snorted a dry laugh. “Yeah, right.”

“Iss the truth,” Dean protested. “Cutie pie cherry pie. Sweetest sweetheart out there.”

A hollow pang settled in your chest. How many times had you bailed Dean out of tight spots or cleaned him up after a hunt? Yet he never noticed you, not the way you wanted him to.

Until now. But this…this was just the alcohol talking. Dean wasn’t looking at you _that way._ Besides, he wouldn’t remember a word of what he’d said in the morning.

You tugged on Dean’s sleeve. “Let’s go.” 

Dean, more subdued now, let you guide him out of the bar. When he tripped over the threshold, you pulled his arm over your shoulder for support. He leaned against you, his cheek resting against the top of your head. 

You barely made it to the car before Dean sagged into the passenger seat, no longer conscious enough to stay on his feet. As you reached over him to buckle his seat belt, Dean brushed two fingers across your cheek.

You startled and shifted your gaze to him. He was so close, cheeks flushed and eyes too-bright from alcohol.

“I keep waiting,” he rasped.

You gulped. “For what?”

“The day you finally tell me to kiss you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Wh-what?”

Dean’s fingers trailed down your cheek to your lips, tracing the line of your mouth.

“I’ve wanted to,” he said. “For so long.”

He tipped his chin up, laying his warm palm against your cheek. The moment was perfect, everything you’d wished for. But you pulled back so quickly in shock at what you’d heard that you bumped your head against the roof of the car.

Dean looked startled for a second. Then his hand fell to your wrist with a squeeze before his eyes fluttered closed, his fingers tangling with yours as he nodded off.

You eased the door closed, leaning against it, scrubbing your hands over your face with disbelief.

***

In the morning, Dean shuffled into the bunker’s kitchen, grumbling and holding his head, no doubt nursing a massive hangover. You eyed him from your place at the table.

“No coffee,” you said. “Not until you explain yourself, Winchester.”

Dean stopped, his back to you. This was it. The moment of truth. Would he own up to what he’d said the night before? Or would he chicken out and pretend forgetfulness?

Slowly, Dean turned around. “I meant what I said.” 

You choked on your breakfast. “You did?”

Dean just looked at you. You pushed your breakfast away.

“So…where does that leave us?” you said.

“Good question.”

You fiddled with your fork. “Why didn’t you tell me how you felt?”

Your voice sounded small and vulnerable - it was obvious how much you’d been hurt. Dean sighed and pulled out the chair beside you. 

“Because I was doing everything I could to make you stay away,” he said. “From me. From the hunting life. All of it.”

“Well, I stuck around.”

“Yes, you did.”

“And I’m not going anywhere.”

“I can see that.”

You raised your eyebrows as if to say, _then what’s your excuse now?_ When Dean didn’t reply, your stomach dropped and breakfast suddenly left a sour taste in your mouth.

“It doesn’t make a difference, does it?” you said, avoiding Dean’s eye. “You’ll always keep your distance, no matter what.”

You pushed away from the table and when you turned to go, Dean caught your wrist lightly.

“I’m trying to keep you safe,” he said.

“You’re being an idiot,” you countered, your voice wet and trembling.

“I know.”

You froze. Dean rose to his feet and cupped your face in his hands, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek.

“Tell me to kiss you,” he whispered.

“So you can say no?” you shot back. 

“Tell me,” Dean repeated, a mere breath in the stillness between you.

You placed your hand on Dean’s chest, his body heat warm against the soft fabric of his t-shirt, his heart like a jack rabbit beneath your palm.

“Kiss - “

You didn’t even finish before Dean closed in, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, tongue licking into your mouth. His hand slipped around your waist, pulling you flush against him. He kissed you as if he was making up for lost time, as if he couldn’t afford to breathe when all he wanted to taste was you.


End file.
